


Sweet Dream, Saccharine

by hazelnuttygoodness



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Kink Negotiation, M/M, That is It, Voyeurism, banging in back alleys and bathrooms, he gets a sugar daddy, kurusu 'pour some sugar on me' akira, slut akira, when momgana's not home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelnuttygoodness/pseuds/hazelnuttygoodness
Summary: He texts like an old man and it makes Akira all the more cognizant he’s debating over casual sex with a stranger at least a decade older than him. His nerves thrum and his cock twitches. It’s past midnight and he glances to see Morgana’s sleeping form on the counterspace. He texts back, horny and rubbing his thighs together.‘Akira. You free tonight?’(sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet)





	Sweet Dream, Saccharine

He had long since gotten past the point of awkwardness stimulated by his unconventional preferences. Shame was long forgotten in the spikes of addiction that lured his hands under his waistband and into the fringe of his hair. Some imagination and a few tugs was all he needed to gather a fistful of his hair and pull. He could almost forget his own hand on his head, fingers tense and pulling with his arm. He huffed against his pillow, almost suffocating in warmth.  


He imagines gentle fingers threading into his hair, gliding across his scalp to massage before pulling his hair into a clenched fist, tighter and bordering pulling. He’s tense, rigid and fisting his cock with rough pulls and twists he matches with his other hand in his hair. He wants to feel the need to yield, that tension and distant longing to be praised for being good and punished for not keeping still. He’s still trying, for that imaginary need. His breaths are shaky and he has to remember to breathe instead of interrupting, sharp staccatos of huffed breaths. He tugs on his hair harder than he’d meant and thrusts his hips into his fist, thumbing over and down his cock and he’s coming. He’s whimpering, he realizes, as he comes through his fingers and splays onto his back before semen stains anything but himself.  


Akira detaches his hand from his hair and presses the back of his wrist against his eyes. The familiar guilt of post masturbation threatens to surface. Before he wallows in it he’s keen to escape it. He grabs tissues to wipe away evidence and threads his clean hand through his hair to fix it. It’s the same mussy mess, he doesn’t know why he bothers besides to feel fingers in his hair. He sighs and slouches back in bed to let sleep overtake him.  


  


 

He wakes up as he always does. It’s a pretty normal day up until he’s walking to the station and some guy bumps into him. It’s a normal day occurrence; the city is the city, streets are bustling and there’s always a place to be and people hurrying to get there. He played the same routine as these things go—bow his head quickly and murmur a sorry, usually polite just to stay out of trouble. But then the guy leans down into his personal space and Akira smells musk and cigarettes and his first instinct is to take a cautious step back. The man must be middle aged or nearing, a stocky build and clean shave, a purposeful stubble collecting at his chin and jaw that he rubs before his hand reaches out to Akira and touches his hair. It’s just a short lock of hair he twirls succinctly around his pointer finger, but Akira gasps softly.  


“You’re quite a pretty boy.” His voice is deep and gravelly, grinding a heat at the pit of Akira’s stomach. “I’d ask if you’d like to have fun with me but, a pretty kid like you’s a good student, aren’t you?”  


He knows he’s staring, and in a way any student who’d want nothing to do with this wouldn’t. He must be obvious, as the guy smirks and pats his head before walking away. Akira knows not to get in trouble, not to let any reason for an extended probation or detention.  
Or at least that’s what he tells himself.  


When he’s on his way back from school the guy is sitting at a bench by the subway’s entrance. Akira slips him his number and hums listlessly to Morgana’s muffled rambling.  


 

He gets texted that night. Mostly sweet talk Akira doesn’t reply back to until the guy sends a message titled Ground Rules. Akira doesn’t need to tell him his name, can back out any night without giving a reason, and can pull out of this completely any time with a text. Akira doesn’t need to prompt him for details and the texts stream one after another. Text when they’re available to hook up, calls are fine with him, too, but he works from 7 to 5. ‘are..you…okay..with.this?’  
He texts like an old man and it makes Akira all the more cognizant he’s debating over casual sex with a stranger at least a decade older than him. His nerves thrum and his cock twitches. It’s past midnight and he glances to see Morgana’s sleeping form on the counterspace. He texts back, horny and rubbing his thighs together.  
‘Akira. You free tonight?’  


He’s waiting by the shuttle’s bathrooms for a minute before seeing a figure sitting on a bench walk up to him. He’s the middle aged man, greying sideburns that creep up to his temples before retaining their black cropped hair. He’s shaved and Akira’s glad he shaved his legs, too. He’s wearing his nightshirt, loose and dark but enough to protect him from the cool tiles of the bathroom wall the man pushes him up against. Akira’s breath hitches and he wraps his arms around the other man’s shoulders, keeping eye contact through his messy bangs. The man cards his fingers through his hair and he hums, following his touch, calloused, big hands rubbing his jaw and into he back of his hair.  


“You can pull,” Akira murmurs, echoing in the silence of the bathroom. The man tugs and Akira groans appreciatively, rocking his hips against the man’s abdomen. He’s hard under his jeans and relishes the touches ghosting over his thighs, hips, and ass. His breathing’s growing harsher and he’s still fully clothed and virtually untouched. The man likes that, apparently.  


“Such a good boy, getting hard just from light touches,” he cups Akira’s ass and he gasps, “and hair tugging.” He pulls his fistful in Akira’s hair to the opposite side and Akira groans, rubbing his groin harder against the man’s stomach. He hears him groan and manhandles Akira flush against him. His heart jumps to his throat at the feel of the older man’s cock, heavy and hot through his pants and pressed against Akira’s thigh. He swallows down his panic and basks in the horniness it makes him feel. He slides his thigh against him, works the curve of his flesh over and over the fabric of the man’s sweats until the man’s pulling Akira closer and himself away, hands on Akira’s belt. His blood’s in his ears and heartbeat in his throat. The man noses at his pulse, sucking and kissing over it.  


“Red, stop,” he says, hand frozen a sturdy weight against Akira’s pants. “Green, go. Yellow, slow down.” The man’s voice is husky with lust but soothing. Akira’s cock twitches and he shifts his hips forward. “You can stop any time.”  


Akira nods, swallowing. His lips are still by his neck, breath tickling. “Okay,” he breathes. “Okay, green.” Then he’s sighing to the man’s lips kissing and sucking into his neck and cock hardening at the feel of strong hands pulling his belt loose and ripping his jean buttons and zipper open. He lets the man pull his pants down and hears the appreciative groan at his legs and erection.  


“Look how wet you are,” he growls, hands cupping either of Akira’s thighs and rubbing up and down his hips. “I bet you’re so sticky down there, thighs wet and clinging. I could fuck your thighs right now.”  


Akira groans, rubbing his thighs together, wanting friction, touch, anything. The man mouths over Akira’s clothed dick and his hips stutter, rocking forward jerkily. He lets him, getting moist over his mouth and completely unbothered. “Wanna fuck you through this wet thing, hear your pretty noises when your cock’s trapped under thin wet fabric and you come in your underwear.”  


“Yes, god, fuck me,” Akira gasps, hips stuttering and his cock twitching evidently through his briefs. The man hooks his fingers under his waistband and tugs, bunching them at the rise of Akira’s thighs. It’s not comfortable, but the man groans at the view and Akira’s too hard and dripping precum to care. The man’s lips close around the tip of his head and Akira keens a the tongue licking into his slit. He deepthroats him and Akira’s deaf to his own noises, high and loud in the empty bathroom, echoing around him but he’s too busy focusing on the feel of the man’s mouth sheathed around him. He’s about to come when the man pulls off and Akira’s never felt so betrayed in his life. The man chuckles at his face and pulls out condoms.  


“Don’t want to make a mess,” he rips one open and slides it over Akira, giving a lubed stroke over him once he fits it. “Any more than we already have. The clean up’s not worth it.” Akira reaches for his pants, pulls them down and reaches for his cock. It’s big and thick, like the ones he fingers himself to on porn videos on his phone. He wants to taste it but he wants it inside him more. He’s mapping over each inch and vein, feeling it’s weight down to the heavy balls beneath and wants to feel them slap heavy over his ass. Precum dribbles down and Akira catches it and licks his fingers clean. It’s salty and translucent, musky and a taste that’s unique to the man. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” the man groans, sliding a condom on himself and stroking the lube warm. He grabs Akira’s hips and shoves him facing the wall. Akira hums, horny and sticks his ass out, chest arched against the wall. It’s cold through the thin fabric of his shirt and his nipples pebble. He slides his chest against the tiles lightly, whimpering at the feeling of the man stroking his cock.  


“What color?”  


Akira’s mind blanks out for a second, waiting for the feeling of fingers pressing against his ass. “Green, green.” He stutters and wiggles his ass impatiently. The man slaps one cheek and Akira yelps, pressing against the tiles. His hand rubs his ass reverently before slapping again.  


“Yes, yes,” Akira chants, drooling.  


“Your cock drips with each spank,” the man waits and Akira feels his dick twitch and spill precum into the condom. “You naughty boy, tell me what you want.”  


“Fuck me, please, god, fuck me.” Akira’s rambling until the man spanks him again. He yelps and chants little ‘yes’es. “I want it, want it so bad.”  


“What do you want?” He spanks his other cheek, harder and Akira almost comes.  


“Fuck! I want your cock—oh, fuck!” Akira’s hips stutter at the force of another slap and he wills himself not to come, though he really wouldn’t mind coming like this and getting fucked through oversensitivity. His cock witches dangerously and he clears his mind from that thought. There was next time. “Please, I want your cock inside me, fuck me, fuck me until I can’t walk tomorrow.”  


It’s the weekend and Akira couldn’t bring himself to care he had a palace scheduled to defeat tomorrow. He wanted cock and he wanted it now. Fingers finally circle his hole and Akira looks over his shoulder, temple pressed against the cool tiles. The man slicks his fingers with more lube from their condoms and presses into him. Akira sighs and closes his eyes, relaxing and letting the man stretch him out. He gets one finger in in it’s entirety and Akira’s keening over how thick his finger is. They’re not as long as Akira’s but the stretch of one is more than Akira’s one. He thinks about how thick the man’s cock is and drools at the intrusion of a second. Akira’s sure his condom’s thick and heavy with his own precum and it only makes him hornier. The fingers leave him and he anticipates the head of his cock, finally. He moans at the feel of a tongue laving against his hole. He’s twitching and so hard and hot.  


“I got you, I’ll take care of you,” the man kisses the tender flesh of Akira’s ass. “Relax, baby, I got you.”  


Akira knows he’s whining unintelligible sounds and he bites his lip around another keening moan at the man tonguing into his ass. He switches between tonguing in deep and adding another finger for a few minutes. “Green, please, give it to me.” Akira mumbles between moans. He’s touched this man would go so far to prepare him for so long, but fuck, he wants dick now.  


The man withdraws and stands up, turning Akira around. “I want to see your gorgeous face when you come.” He leans down and kisses his jaw, cheek, temple, and Akira stands on the tip of his toes to kiss him. He tastes like rubbery lube, face scratchy and textured, and he should probably be put off he ate his ass a couple of seconds ago but Akira was clingy when he was horny and relished in the feeling of the man lining his cock up against Akira’s ass and picking him up like he weighed nothing and dropping him over his cock. Akira moaned into his mouth, ecstasy finally rippling through his body while the man kissed him harder.  


He props him against the wall and pushes his shirt up, one hand supporting Akira over his waist and back, the other roaming Akira’s chest. Akira clings to him, kissing him hard and long, sucking into his tongue, biting into his kisses. Finally there’s dick in him. He parts to gasp with each hard thrust the man fucks into his ass. A calloused thumb tweaks his nipple and Akira’s entire body jerks in time to another hard thrust against his prostate. He’s so thick and big, each time the man has him sink over his cock his eyes threaten to roll back into his head. He’s not sure what he’s saying anymore, he’s too far gone, moaning high and loud his voice verges on giving out. It’s just how he wants it, hard and fast and shaking his entire body. He’s half sure he’s convulsing but each inch of cock pounding into him is so worth the soreness he knows he’s going to feel tomorrow.  


“You’re so tight, baby,” the man groans, thrusting up and pulling Akira down harder onto his cock, bouncing him faster and harder. “Scream for me, you love this, don’t you?”  


He’s so full and hot and he’s glad the man has a hold on him, knows his legs wouldn’t support him. His limbs are jelly and he’s shaking with each thrust, cock bobbing against his stomach, condom engorged at the tip with precum. He hears echoes of his voice in the bathroom, loud and distorted but clear.  


“Yes, yes, fuck, I love this,” he gasps. “I love your cock fucking me so deep, god, it’s so deep.”  


Akira starts grinding his hips down, taking his cock deeper and they both moan. Akira’s aware his body is shuddering and he’s so close, prostate being hit head on with each thrust and slide out. Then the door opens and the box of sound is distorted, echoes escaping and the night air slipping in. Akira doesn’t even freeze, too busy grinding down and chasing after that pleasure making his body move on his own. It's a cycle Akira doesn’t want to break. He isn’t entirely focused on the poor soul that catches them, too preoccupied getting fucked against the wall, just hears a surprised curse and meets the outlier’s gaze. His vision is bouncing with each thrust that pulls breathless moans from his lungs. His entire body is shaking and he loves it, loves the way the boy across the bathroom looks shocked and a bit scared. Akira would laugh if he wasn’t busy getting dicked. He’s moaning ‘yes’es, ‘more’, ‘faster’ and the like to put on a show and keeps his eyes locked with the boy’s. He’s a teenager so Akira doesn’t feel like he’s scarring the youth, probably just giving a story to talk to his friends about. Or store in the back of his mind for when he wants something weird to jerk off to. Both makes Akira’s mouth water.  


He'd try to keep the boy entertained but the man’s fucking him rougher now and Akira can’t focus enough to relay fuck-me-too eyes when he’s seeing stars. He’s leaning against the wall almost completely now, back hunched in where his shoulder blades are hot against the now warm tiles slick with sweat. His entire body jerks with each thrust, legs jelly and dead weight around the man’s torso. He’s babbling now, unable to form words, just moans torn from his throat. His eyes find the boy’s, still there and Akira jerks his hips teasingly. He fists one hand in his hair and pulls, mewling and keeping glazed eyes on the boy, watches him squirm and drags his eyes down to his crotch, eyeing hungrily. He already sees a tent and would smirk if his mouth was capable of stretching past anything than the ‘oh’s he’s only able to make at the moment.  


“Gonna cum untouched, baby?” The man grunts, grabbing his hips rough enough Akira knows he’s going to bruise. Akira can’t form words, just mewls appreciatively and fucks himself roughly on his cock. He’s pulling his own hair and drooling, coming so close to release and wants to relish in this feeling longer. It’s titillating and he’s breathless, so close, so damn close. He sees the boy still standing at the doorway palm himself and the man thrusting rough and haphazardly into his prostate, then he’s cumming. He knows he doesn’t make just one sound when he does, it’s long and broken and his throat is raw but fuck, it feels too good for him to care. He’s tightening around the cock inside him and loves the feeling, constricting so deep inside him it catches on his thrust and the man groans, cursing and grabbing his hips roughly as he cums. He’s twitching inside him and Akira commits the sensation to memory, wonders what it would feel like raw and filling him up. It pulls another spurt of cum from him. He’s finally spent, boneless in a different way than he was when getting fucked. He wouldn’t mind sliding to the floor and sleeping right there. The man seems to pick up on that and gathers him in his arms, slipping out of him. Akira mewls and lolls his head to the side. The boy is still there, watching in a trance. Akira blinks slowly at him and licks his lips. He feels sticky and tired but wouldn’t mind another fuck if he was given one.  


“You’re perfect,” the man breathes, kissing Akira’s temple as he carefully pulls off the condom from Akira’s softening length. Akira hums and nuzzles into him. He smells like sweat and musk, earthy and masculine enough for Akira’s dick to twitch in interest. They lean against the wall for a bit as their breathing evens out. The boy is gone now and they both chuckle.  


“Into voyeurs, huh?”  


Akira flushes and nods.  


“Don’t get shy on me now, baby,” the man laughs quietly. It feels like a slow rumble against his chest and Akira presses against him more. “You always look around for fucks?”  


It feels like an insult when he knows it isn’t. His ears feel hot and he shakes his head. The man brings his hand to pat his head, fingers threading through his hair. It relaxes him. “I’ve never done this before.”  


His hand freezes. Akira peers up through his bangs. “Sex? Or no strings?”  


A slow panic steeps through him. “Both.” His eyes must show his frenzy because the man continues stroking through his hair and calms him down.  


“Taking a complete virgin boy is kind of a turn on,” he smiles. If it’s meant as a joke it doesn’t come off as one. Akira doesn’t care either way, just burrows into the fabric of his shirt and closes his eyes.  


“Whoa, whoa, no sleeping leaning against the public bathroom wall.”  


“I’m sleepy.”  


“Let’s get you clothed and home.”  


Akira is the obviously younger one so he lets himself be a brat and has the older man dress him again. When they’re both presentable and walking outside, Akira’s already limping a little and the man links their arms to support him. When they’re outside the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Akira’s raising his brows when he pulls two bills out to Akira.  


“I’m not a prostitute.”  


“I know you’re not,” the man huffs. “I just won’t be available this week. Business meetings with bigwigs travelling over. You should treat yourself.”  


Akira hesitates.  


“You don’t need to accept it. I want to treat you.”  


Akira works. He has two part time jobs he balances well, grades not stellar but nothing dismal. He could earn 10000 yen within half a week, but being thrusted (ha) that amount in one night isn’t something Akira’s opposed to. He takes the money and slips it in his pocket. The man smiles and pats his head.  


“I’d walk you home but I guess that’d be creepy. So I’ll just walk with you until we go our separate ways.”  


“I still don’t know your name,” Akira brings up. “What do I call you, my sugar daddy?”  


He chokes. “Sure, I guess. No offense, but I don’t want any scandal going around.”  


“I don’t mind. As long as I get fucked I have no complaints.”  


The man laughs.  


  


 

The next day there’s no booty call. Not that Akira expected one. His logs held the rules of their arrangement, messages establishing where to meet last night and a two hour gap before texts asking if he got home safely. Weird to think he got his brains fucked out of him and a withstanding limp within that timeframe. His ‘sugar daddy’ was sweet and had a big dick, now that he had someone to compare it to. He pockets his phone and grinds his ass back against the boy’s cock. He hears him hiss and drags his dick between Akira’s cheeks again. Turns out voyeur kid goes to his school and wouldn’t mind trying out sex with a boy. Akira was a second away from saying no until he noticed the kid was already tenting one and all words, thoughts, and blood rushed to Akira’s crotch before Akira was on his knees and kissing up and sucking down his dick. So here he is now, a dick the relative size and girth of his own sliding against his ass. He’s getting impatient, and even though Akira knows this guy isn’t sure he’s attracted to men, Akira’s a second away from pushing him down and sinking over his dick. He seems to find his way on his own, though, and a second later Akira’s groaning over the feel of his cock pushing in him. He’s glad he’s still pliable from last night and from masturbating in the morning because this guy does not know how to stretch an ass. But Akira likes it rough and relishes the burn that comes even after his lubed masturbation session from not even an hour ago. Akira wanted to see how long his ass would drip and squelch from lube for an entire day, but now he’s going to try something even better.  


“You’re tight,” the boy hisses, bottoming out and rocking forward. Akira grinds his hips and sighs contently. He’s overheating but he’ll be damned if he strips completely in the back alley of some dingy restaurant. Morgana’s quiet in his bag, probably still asleep. He might be a heavy sleeper but it’s still morning and Akira tells himself not to be so vocal. The boy pulls out and thrusts back in hard and fast and Akira moans.  


“I always thought you were scary,” the boy grunts, thrusts rough and without rhythm but Akira’s not complaining. “A delinquent, they said.” He thrust harder and Akira caught himself against the wall. “Dangerous.” Another hard thrust and Akira keens. “But still so damn gorgeous.” Akira closes his throat but broken moans slip out anyway. He’s hunched over Akira’s back and despite how hot he feels Akira yearns for warmth and presses back. The boy’s huffing into his ear and Akira turns to kiss him. It surprises the boy, but he kisses back messily, all tongue and saliva and it’s kind of gross, but Akira’s filter is on and he can’t bring himself to care. He shudders around each thrust and feels his palms chafing against the concrete wall.  


“You don’t even know my name and you got on your knees to suck me off.” His hands drift up Akira’s body, tracing up his ribs and over his nipples, another dipping into the curve of his thigh. “You’re not dangerous, just a pervert.”  


Akira scoffs but it’s covered by his labored breathing. “I prefer ‘thirsty’,” Akira huffs, closing his eyes and feeling each thrust shake through him. “’Horny’. Even ‘slutty’.” He glances at him over his shoulder and sees him stiffen. “It’s sexier.”  


The boy groans and fucks into him faster, sloppy thrusts not aimed anywhere, just to get himself off, like Akira’s a sex toy or whore being used to get him to completion. It pulls a moan from him and he grinds back to each thrust, wanting more friction inside him. He gets it, the boy fucking him harder and cursing as his hips stutters and he cums inside. It’s warm and wet and Akira shudders, clawing against the wall and gasping. He cums as well, spurting seed against the concrete and tightening around the cock he’s still milking dry. His hips are twitching by the time the boy pulls out. Akira turns his head and smiles at him, milky wetness dripping from his ass.  


“Guessing you like boys?”  


**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
